


Breathe

by SapphoIsBurning



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anxiety, Bottom Dean, Fear of Death, M/M, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8460040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: All Sami wanted to do was watch NCIS and fall asleep, but now he's trapped in an elevator with Dean Ambrose.
Well...maybe that's not *all* he wanted to do.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This week on Sapph works her way through classic fic tropes: oh no, they're trapped in an elevator!

They hit the hotel late; Dean got keys while Sami stood in a daze, squinting in the fluorescent light of the lobby.

"Really, ten's the best you've got right now?" Dean asked the hotel clerk.

"I'm sorry sir, everything on a lower level is booked up. We could have someone bring your bags up on the elevator if you wanted to take the stairs."

"No, I'll be okay, just don't like elevators. Floor ten okay for you?" Dean called over his shoulder to Sami, who was eating a complimentary cookie and staring into a potted plant.

"Sure," he said.

Dean got the talk and signed the papers from the lady at the desk, and Sami signed them too, and they walked and walked. Dean paused in front of the fire door, looking like he was thinking hard.

"I'm not dragging this suitcase up ten floors," Sami said, "but you can go up that way if you want to. I can take your bag in the elevator with me."

"No, I'll fucking do it," Dean said, stomping off to follow the signs. 

At the end of the hallway they found the elevator. They dragged their stuff in and Dean hit the button for floor ten.

They stood in increasingly sleepy silence, but at about floor seven, the lights went out and they heard a whirring and a clicking sound. The floor lurched and they fell, how far they couldn't tell, before stopping suddenly, hard. They fell into each other, Sami catching Dean and grabbing his arm. He could hear Dean's rapid breathing.

"Fucksticks," Sami swore.

Dean croaked in a breath.

"Oh no, Dean, it's going to be okay. It's probably just a power outage. Probably from the weather or the wind or something, it's no big deal." Sami retained a firm grip on Dean.

Dean leaned into Sami's shoulder. "We're going to die in here. They're going to forget about us." 

Sami got his phone out and lit up the flashlight button. "It's going to be fine. The power will come back on and we can go to bed."

Dean didn't answer. Sami gently maneuvered around him to get to the button panel. He found a button that said "Call" and pressed it, holding it down. He pressed it a few more times.

"The call button tells maintenance something is wrong," Sami said, explaining what he was doing as he went, which he found was very helpful to people who were panicking, such as himself. He felt his own heart speed up and his hands shook a little, but it seemed like Dean was worse off for the moment, so he took a deep breath himself and tried to get grounded. Things like this happened all the time.

"Well, I know we're not supposed to pry the doors open. If the elevator starts moving while you're halfway out, you would get crushed in half."

"Crushed to death, got it," Dean said weakly.

Dean sank down to the ground and sat against the wall of the elevator, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on top of them. He rocked back and forth, forward and back, humming to himself a little.

Sami pushed the "Alarm" button for good measure, which started a ringing sound that sounded like it was coming from outside of the elevator. That would get people's attention, right?

Sami pushed the call button again and then sat down next to Dean. They were still in the dark, but Sami's phone gave them a little to see by.

"This sucks," Sami said. "You were right, elevators are terrible."

"Elevators will fucking kill you," Dean said. He shivered.

"Are you cold?" Sami asked.

"No." Dean rolled his head side to side.

"It's gonna be okay, they will find us. But if you're tired you might as well go ahead and take a nap, because if the power is out I have no idea how long it's going to take."

Dean's eyes got wide.

"Not forever. Maybe like an hour."

Dean ran his hands forward through his hair, pushing it all into his face, and he tugged at it.

Sami glanced at his phone screen. He had eventually plugged it into a charger in their rental car, so he had a mostly full charge. Thinking for a sec, he opened up his music and selected a song.

He meant to pick something Dean-ish, Deanly, Deanical? Dean-esque. Old rock or country, except his fat finger accidentally tapped a song by Rancid and the tiny space was then blasted by some loud punk rock. Which cheered Sami instantly, but he saw Dean cringe and he moved fast to turn it back off. 

"Sorry!" 

Dean didn't respond.

Sami crouched down and lowered his ass to the floor to sit next to Dean. He turned his flashlight off and just illuminated his screen. He could see Dean's brows drawn down and his eyes shut tight. He still rocked back and forth. It seemed like a comforting thing to do so Sami joined him, their shoulders pressed together

There was a buzz and a clinking noise and a small auxiliary fluorescent light clicked on at the top of the car, flickering a few times before lighting up steady. Sami stared up into it. "Well, that's something," he said. He looked back at Dean, who was staring at his hands.

"Dean. Deano. Stay with me buddy, it's going to be okay."

"What if we're already dead?" Dean asked.

"Can you not?" Sami said. "I hate this, I want to go to bed, I want to watch NCIS and fall asleep. We're not in the dark, though, and that's at least something. God, we're not dead."

"How do you know this is real?" Dean asked. He glanced up from his hands.

"Do confined spaces make you all philosophical? You never do this in the car." 

"I can open the windows in the car. We're going to run out of oxygen here and die together."

"We're not in a spacecraft. This thing's not airtight. There's plenty of air. Don't stop breathing on my account.” He looked at Dean. “No really, you should breathe." He nudged Dean with his shoulder. "Ever do yoga?"

"Not if I can help it," grunted Dean.

"Deep breath in through your nose for a long three count, hold it in, then blow it out."

"So I'm slow counting myself?" Dean asked, but then he breathed in noisily through his nose. It was a start.

Still no answer from hitting the call button. Sami tapped at his screen to pull up the website for the hotel they were at, and dialed the hotel's own phone number. It rang and rang but no one ever picked up. Not a great sign. He didn't tell Dean. Should he tell Dean? No, he would worry about it quietly and silently, and Dean could loudly worry about whatever the fuck he wanted.

He stretched out his legs as best he could in the small box and leaned back, trying to stretch his arms and legs out without bumping Dean too much. He failed. His right arm brushed against Dean's head.

"Watch it Zayn, I thought you wanted me to yoga breathe."

"It's helping, admit it."

Dean puffed out a breath through his mouth. "I...this one time when I was a kid. Fuck. Nevermind. Elevators are dark, you know? No way to keep track of time passing. I. I just don't want to be forgotten about." He gulped a hard swallow.

"I'll never forget about you, Dean," Sami said, concern drawing his eyebrows together. He dropped his arm around Dean's shoulders. He felt the man shaking. "Is this okay?" Sami asked.

"Yeah," Dean said, dropping his head down. "Tell me some more about not being forgotten."

"Dean, we have people counting on us. If we go missing, we will be looked for. If you go missing. Don't go missing, okay? We need you."

Dean laughed at that. "Yeah, I'm a real draw," he said.

"You are! Draw me in pretty good. Got that hot tag." Sami leaned his head against the top of Dean's head and got a frisson of leather jacket and a whiff of forbidden cigarette.

"I'm replaceable," Dean said. "I'm a dime a dozen. There's a hundred more assholes just like--"

 

"No. No, okay? I've heard all this from you before and I don't buy it for a minute. Nobody's like you, Dean." Sami leaned into him more, drawing him closer, and Dean let himself be held. "I don't care if the company can find another good talker, nobody will ever replace you. Nobody's ever--"

A squawk of static from the call box kept Sami from finishing that thought. "Hello?" a staticky voice said. "This is Staci from operations. Is there someone in this elevator?"

Sami leapt forward to push the call button again for good measure. "Yes!" he shouted into what he thought was a speaker on the panel. "There are two of us stuck in here. The emergency lights are on but we haven't moved." He knelt and leaned his head against the panel.

"Sir, there was a power outage but our generators have kicked in. Our elevator technician is on her way in. We're a little short staffed tonight. We will get you out as soon as possible. Is everything else all right for now?"

"Just a couple of chronically anxious adults in a confined space."

"Ma'am," Dean said from behind Sami, "I think we're running out of oxygen but my friend here says I'm wrong. Can you confirm that we're going to die in here?"

Sami sighed.

"Sir?" the woman said. "The elevators aren't airtight. There's still passive ventilation from the vents in the top of the car. Everything's going to be fine and our tech's current ETA is about twenty minutes. Are you hurt?"

"I'm always fucking hurt," Dean said.

"Can it, Ambrose," Sami said.

"I'm going to let you go for now, but please hit the call button if anything changes?" the woman said hesitantly.

"Thank you, Staci," Sami said.

"What were you saying before Staci butted in?" Dean asked. Sami turned around and put his back against the closed elevator doors, pulling his knees up to his chest and folding his arms.

"About what?"

"I was whining about being replaceable and you were giving me shit about it but you started to say something and then she cut you off." Dean scratched the back of his neck.

Sami sighed. "I just like you, okay? Quit talking about going away."

Dean grimaced. Then he took a deep, noisy breath in through his nose, held it for a slow count of three, and blew it out slowly. He did it again.

"That's really good," Sami said. "I'll do it with you."

"Using up all the air," grumbled Dean, but the grumble turned into a laugh. They breathed in time until at least Sami started to lose track of how long they'd been doing it for.

Dean stopped and looked at Sami with naked tenderness. "Thanks," he said. He looked wide-eyed and vulnerable in the weak yellow of the emergency lighting and it made Sami feel bad for snapping at him and rolling his eyes.

"Any time," Sami said.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You're freaking out too, aren't you."

Sami took stock of his own feelings. Palms: sweaty. Heart: racing moderately. Brain: doing its best. Hands: a little shaky. 

"Am I not hiding it well enough?" Sami asked. "I have to be the calm one today. If someone is freaking out worse than you, that's how it goes."

Dean crawled forward on his hands and knees to sit next to Sami again. "Do you ever get to be the one who freaks out?"

"It's been a while," Sami admitted. "Probably not since I got hurt. I let myself be...un calm. For a little bit."

"So you think we're going to die in here too," Dean said slightly triumphantly.

"Fine! Is that what you want from me?" Sami turned. His face was very close to Dean's. "I *am* afraid we're going to die in here. I'm afraid we are going to die pretty much every moment. When we're taking off in a plane, when the plane is landing, when I pull out of the rental car lot. When I go to bed at night. When I get up in the morning. The hotel could burn down and I might not escape in time. The venue could be attacked by terrorists or like there could just be a stampede of people and we could all die of crush injuries. I could get shot at by a fan. I could get shot at by someone *else's* fan." Sami stopped to catch his breath.

"We should talk about this more," Dean said, rapt with attention. "What's the weirdest way you were ever worried about dying? I used to be afraid drain cleaner would burn my skin off and kill me so I never used it."

"Yeah, chemical burns. Definitely spent some time thinking about that. Furniture in the US has to be doused in flame retardant, did you know that? But it gives you cancer? So you can either get cancer or die in a fire in your house, I guess?"

"That's fucked up, man," Dean said shaking his head. “What about bears. Or ghosts.”

“I’ve been camping a few times where I didn’t get any sleep being afraid a bear was going to eat me. As far as death, ghosts haven’t freaked me out that much...why?”

“But what if a ghost possesses you and then keeps your body and you go away forever, or like you become a ghost instead.” Dean was looking brighter despite the dark turn of the conversation.

“That’s not how ghosts work. Is it? I don’t think it is. I mean, they could scare you to death. But how can they even touch you? Unless they’re a poltergeist. I have been afraid of a ghost pushing furniture over on me. I think I read that in a book as a kid.”

Dean leaned into Sami’s shoulder. “Who knows, man. It doesn’t have to be real for you to be afraid of it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that's true.” Sami leaned back into Dean, taking a deep breath, slinging an arm back around him. The elevator was getting pretty warm but not too warm to feel a little comfort from the press of their bodies together. They turned to face each other. Their noses bumped and they froze, looking into each others’ eyes, not sure what else to do but move forward. Dean smiled a small smile. Sami opened his mouth and their lips brushed.

And then there was a wrenching sound of metal and they both jumped, then laughed.

“Can you hear me? I’m manually descending the elevator to the closest floor,” a muffled voice said from outside the doors.

“Oh god, thank you so much!” Sami shouted.

“It’s getting pretty Lord of the Flies in here, you better get us out soon,” Dean said.

“Oh shut up,” Sami said.

“Okay, hold on,” the voice of the repair person said. With a clank, the box started moving slowly and stopped hard about ten seconds later. Then the doors opened, and it was as normal as if they had arrived at their floor as scheduled. The tech stood outside hitting buttons on a control panel of some kind.

“Hi guys,” she said.

“Hello, ma’am,” Dean replied, dragging himself up to his feet. He put out a hand and Sami followed. They grabbed their bags and stepped out of the car.

“Hope we didn’t leave you in there for too long,” the tech said. “I got called in in the middle of a date, but that’s what I get for scheduling something while I’m on call.”

Sami gaped. “It means a lot, thank you so much for getting us out of there.”

She shrugged off their reactions. “You were the ones trapped in a pitch black death box. Elevators are the worst.”

“Do you think they are more or less likely to be the site of a ghost possession than any other part of a building?” Dean asked. Sami elbowed him.

The tech leaned against the wall thoughtfully. “Definitely not more. And I think the Faraday cage effect plus the constant motion probably gives you some protection. That is, unless someone previously died in the elevator.”

They stared at her without moving. “...has anyone died in this elevator?” Sami asked.

She picked up a thick binder out of a bag on the floor and flipped through it. “No, not this one. Looks like you’re clear.”

“What floor are we on?” Sami asked, realizing how dazed and weird he must sound to her.

“Nine,” she said.

“One flight of stairs between us and sleep,” Dean said.

“Between us and something,” Sami said, thinking he was agreeing.

Dean opened the stairwell door and held it open for Sami. Their bodies brushed as he passed. Sami gulped.

They grunted and complained and dragged heavy bags thunking and bumping up the stairs. Sami lost his grip on his roller bag and it almost got way from him, but Dean blocked it with his hip. Finally they got to the next floor (finally, like they hadn’t been completely sure they would almost die from the elevator) and stumbled out into the bright hallway and walked down a long narrow corridor to reach their room.

Dean fumbled for they key cards. Sami held his bags while he stuck the card in the slot one, two, three times before the light turned green and the room opened with a click. Dean sighed and opened the door. They dragged their crap in and dropped it.

The room was dark. Sami clicked on a floor lamp, lighting up their faces in raking yellow light. Dean looked just like he did after cutting a promo, overflowing with excess emotion, like he wanted to pace or punch a wall or. Something. Sami glanced in a mirror--he looked about the same.

“Did you mean all that back there,”Dean said flatly, his rasp quiet.

“Dean, do you take me for a guy who doesn’t mean every single damn thing I say?” Sami took a step back, bumping into a bed with his shins.

Dean smiled like a hungry fox. He advanced on Sami, getting up in his space, swaying back and forth like he did in the ring sometimes, like his body couldn’t contain all his energy. Sami rolled his eyes and put his hands out, grabbing Dean by the waist and pulling him the rest of the way in. They kissed hard, smiling into each other’s skin. Sami was surprised by the milky sweetness of Dean’s mouth, and he found he couldn’t get enough of it.

Dean pulled back and Sami moaned softly, not wanting the kiss to stop.

“Fuck, if I knew we were gonna do this I would have gotten a king bed.”

Sami laughed into Dean’s shoulder, his face pressing against the softness of his leather jacket. They clung to each other and laughed, still shaking from the panic the elevator induced, a little sweaty with a mix of fear, relief, and desire.

Dean ran two hands up Sami’s chest and pushed him hard onto the bed. Sami fell back with a bounce and made room for Dean to crawl up between his legs. He shed his jacket as he went.

“Oh, Sami,” Dean said, running his hands under the man’s sweatshirt and tee shirt all at once, peeling them up and off over his head, messing up his hair as he went. Once Sami was shirtless, Dean put his hands all over him, feeling his softness and his solidness. Sami shuddered at the intensity of the sensation.

Dean was rapt, his eyes wide, taking in Sami.

“You’ve seen me shirtless before, you see me shirtless all the time. At work. Where we wrestle,” Sami said gently.

“Shut up,” Dean said, licking a stripe up Sami’s pec and ending at his neck, kneeling over him, pushing him against the headboard. “We’re alive.”

Sami rested his hands on Dean’s narrow waist, feeling Dean’s lithe muscles under his shirt. He ran his hands up and got Dean’s shirt off too, and then they pressed together, kissing again, crashing against each other like waves. Their arms were wrapped tightly around each other, holding on like the bottom would drop out from underneath them at any minute. Sami gripped the back of Dean’s neck. Dean got his hands around Sami’s ass. They were almost too close to grind against each other but the press was nearly enough.

Nearly.

“I want more,” Sami said.

“I got more,” Dean said, pulling away. “How much more do you want?”

Sami’s eyes were dark with lust. “Everything,” he ground out.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Dean went over to his bags, kicked over his suitcase, opened a pocket. He was prepared. Had he always been prepared for this, Sami wondered. 

“Fuck, Dean,” Sami said, palming himself through his jeans.

“That’s the idea.” Dean set the lube and a purple-wrapped condom down on the bed and undid his belt buckle one-handed. Sami sat up to help. Dean dropped his jeans and his boxers and stepped out, kicking them off with his shoes and socks in one desperate move to be rid of them. He was half-hard already and pressed his naked body against Sami’s still partially clothed one like a supplicant, pleading with his gesture. Sami kissed him again, getting a fistful of his hair this time and holding on tight.

Dean kissed Sami with his mouth and with his hands, undressed him, only breaking away to get his boots off, tossing them aside with a thud. When they were both naked, Sami rolled them over and pressed Dean into the bed.

“Let me in,” Sami said. His lips brushed Dean’s ear. “Let me.” He didn’t finish the thought but Dean nodded, panted, started begging.

“Sami, fuck me, I wanna feel alive, slick up your cock and put it in me, fuck!”

“As you wish,” Sami said. He grabbed for the lube and poured it on his fingers, making quick work of slicking up Dean’s ass. Dean didn’t stop talking the whole time. The gates had been broken.

“I want it so bad, that’s it, more, ahh,” he moaned as Sami got three fingers in and let out a low whistle. He opened the condom with his teeth, remembering he wasn’t supposed to do it that way, but he didn’t stop. He rolled it on himself, slicked his cock, stroked it a few times with unfocused eyes, showing off for Dean, really.

“I’ve wanted it for so long, fucking give it to me, God, you have no idea,” Dean wailed.

Sami pushed Dean until he rolled over, grabbing a pillow on the way to tuck under him. “Let me do it like this,” Sami said and Dean just whimpered.

Soon Sami was rutting into the cleft of Dean’s ass as Dean got a knee under himself and rocked back toward Sami. He reared back and pressed forward into Dean, finding his entrance, fucking in.

And then they both breathed out. They really were both alive, they were moving together and laughing and coming, and everything was great, everything was fine, everything was glorious.

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
